A New Faith: Part 3: Chapter 40
Another forty-eight hours to go before the planned riot. Alia had spent all of the previous day agonizing over her options. She had handed over her raw notes to Carlos to go over and he had not found anything new that they could follow up on. Of course, she had pretended to do the same with Carlos’ notes. The entire team had engaged in this exercise whole-heartedly and yet, there was nothing new to show for. If she wanted, it could all be resolved instantly. But she was not sure what she wanted.
They had a long brainstorming session in the evening. The team had drawn up ever more bizarre scenarios that could potentially help them solve the murders. Even solving one of the murders should be sufficient, they all thought, in pre-empting the riot. Simply thinking that way was a sign of desperation. Some leads had been provided by the Interpol but following up on them would mean going back to the Interpol and that was just going to take too much time. There was nothing they could do to expedite that.
The most promising leads that the team settled on exploring further were going back and talking with every single person who was at the bar where Nadeem was last seen. The mysterious large black woman had still not been identified. It was not even clear if she was a real person or simply something folks had made up.
Tozi had come back after her nap and a quick brunch. She had set up her work-station in one of the conference rooms. She could use all the white-boards and the multiple projectors to lay out the full gamut of the connections among the various loudmouths who had been boasting about the planned riots on their social media feeds. She had projected the various photos on the white-boards and then with a dry eraser she had drawn the connections between them. Once she had highlighted some of the names who seemed to be at the core, she had brought in Sonia and Alia. Identifying these core planners was relatively easy - they had said the least in public. In fact, they were more or less completely silent. The tell was that they were connected to the most number of the loudest talkers. These would serve as a reasonable starting point for Sonia and Alia.
Both had started calling these people up one by one. The moment Sonia and Alia had disclosed who they were and why they were calling, almost all of them had clammed up. They disavowed violence of all kind. They even went out of their way to prove how non-religious they were. If they had time, Sonia would have preferred an indirect approach to these people. And an in-person one at that. But because they didn’t have the luxury of time at all, they had decided to use a phone and cut to the chase immediately. Alia was not surprised that not a single one of them wanted to be caught doing anything bad. No one wanted to be deported from Sequoia. They were being as careful as possible. About the external threat to Sequoia, they had been completely dismissive.
After a futile few hours, Sonia and Alia had decided to call it a day and headed to their homes to catch some sleep. Tozi was going to continue working on identifying more folks and she had also decided that she was going to look for some leverage that Sonia and Alia could use to pressure the would-be rioters to desist from their plans. Alia informed Carlos that he was on for the night shift while she grabbed some dinner and a few hours of sleep. She promised that she would be back by 3 am to relieve him. The rest of the team had also been assigned to different shifts.
Alia had tried to eat some dinner but she was too wound up for that. She didn’t sleep a wink. She just sat in her flat and thought long and hard. She really had only two options. First, own up to her crime and get deported back to Iran, for good. Second, keep it a secret and hope that they could prevent the riot somehow and even if they couldn’t prevent it, Sequoia still survived. Sonia had told her about Rachel’s, Kaija’s, and Camille’s plans. There was a possibility that global public pressure would ensure that the armed force outside of Sequoia ended up only breaking up the riot and then leaving the city back in the hands of the local police.
She needed to see Sara and talk this out with her. Both their lives were going to be affected one way or the other. She was not going to decide for both of them. No way! That was just not who Alia was. She accorded the same respect to every other person that she expected back from them. She believed in trusting people. She believed in cooperation. She believed in persuasion. She believed in - above all - being a reasonable person irrespective of the situation she might be in.
As time went by, she felt herself leaning toward the first option. Greater common good - as a general principle - had always seemed reasonable to her. Her and Sara’s lives would be utterly destroyed while Sequoia would get a chance at surviving. Maybe even fulfilling its destiny as dreamed by the founders of the three cities. But she also felt physical pain at being permanently separated from Maria. How could she live with that? That is if she was allowed to live.
Finally, at 10 pm, Alia decided to go look for Sara and talk with her. Since her sole conversation with Sara, Alia had quietly figured out all the details about Sara. She had resisted connecting with her again. She had been true to her word and had stayed quiet. Now she felt that she had no choice but to go to Sara’s flat.
The late-night tram ran every twenty minutes instead of the usual five minutes during the peak hours. Sara’s flat was right in the heart of Sequoia unlike Alia’s which was closer to one of the corners of the city. Sequoia had been laid out in the form of a square grid. Alia had to switch trams a couple of times to go down the diagonal as quickly as possible.
There were few people on the trams at that hour - mostly, revelers returning home. Well - Alia thought - they didn’t look like they had had fun. There was a somber air around them. More likely, they were trying to enjoy the last few days of freedom before the riots took place and the armed force barged in to take over Sequoia and their lives.
The news had spread throughout the city in a flash. After the initial moment of shock, most people had resigned themselves to their fate. Of course, this whole experiment of Sequoia had been like a dream. It had always been too good to be true. It was now time to wake up and face the reality. Their destiny had been written long ago. They never had any hope. The last five years had been a pleasant detour around the unfortunate lives they had been living since their birth. No one could change destiny. Alia read all this in their eyes and their faces as they quietly talked among themselves. Those who were alone, stared blankly into space. Even the music playing in the background was melancholy today. How could Alia condemn them all to this horrific fate?
She mentally shrugged her shoulders and got off at the stop closest to Sara’s flat. It was a short walk. The building was festooned with murals that provocatively merged two disparate scenes - a hot desert and cold mountains. The artist had done some marvelous brushwork in the way the transition between the two scenes was portrayed. Alia briefly admired the mural and then resolutely started climbing the stairs to Sara’s flat. Because it was a chilly night and the mood was serious, there were only a few bunches of people sitting in the central common area, quietly talking.
Alia knocked on the door. Within a few moments, she heard the latch being unlocked and as the door was about to be opened, the latch was locked up again and Sara’s voice came from inside, “who is it? What do you want this late at night?”
Well - that was strange. Sure - when people had been new in Sequoia, they had locked their doors and been suspicious of everyone. But as they built their connections and relationships with their fellow citizens, most of those fears had faded away. Most people didn’t bother locking their doors now. Maybe at night when they went to sleep and wanted to guarantee privacy, they would lock them. But the rest of the time, it was considered absolutely safe. And no one ever asked for identification before opening the door.
“It’s me,” Alia replied.
“We need to talk!”
Again, the latch was unlocked and the door partially opened. Sara’s face peeked around it. When she saw Alia, her hand reached toward her mouth in alarm. She opened the door fully and waved Alia into her flat.
The flat’s layout was similar to Alia’s. But it was decorated, unlike Alia’s. Maria had tried to get Alia to put up some beautiful artwork on the walls, but Alia had not shown much inclination to do so. She preferred her flat to be spartan in nature. It might seem to be impersonal to someone who didn’t know Alia well. But it accurately reflected Alia’s personality. Alia lived in her own head, most of the time. In her head, she imagined a rich, vibrant, and colorful world made from her thoughts. Existence of vibrancy in the external world was somewhat less relevant for her. She was not averse to it. She simply didn’t want to spend too much time in creating it or nurturing it. She was happy living in her own head.
In sharp contrast, Sara’s flat indicated that she found the external world crucial for her survival. There was a lot of African art sprinkled around the flat. But the most striking things were the numerous collages of portraits that Sara had stuck to the walls. They were of people from all parts of the world and of all ages. The common thing among them all was that they were pictures of smiling people. Even though the lights were dim, the place felt lit up brightly because of the joy in the eyes and expressions of all those photos. Sara had surrounded herself with happiness.
Maybe that’s why the sadness in Sara’s face stood out so poignantly. The last time she had seen Sara was on the freight train. It seemed that since their last meeting, Sara had shrunk into herself like a star collapses when it dies. She had lost weight and was clearly not sleeping well.
“We have a problem, Sara. A really big problem. An existential problem, to be accurate.”
Sara’s brow furrowed.
“Our intelligence has indicated that there is going to be a major riot in Sequoia in a couple of days. Tens of thousands of people are expected to get out on the streets. We are expecting violence. People appear to be fashioning all kinds of weapons in preparation for it.”
Sara nodded absently. She was no longer looking at Alia. Almost as if she were avoiding Alia’s gaze.
“I am assuming that you have nothing to do with all that. You are not going anywhere near that… are you?”
Sara shook her head.
“Good. At least, I don’t have to waste my time trying to convince you not to cause any more violence. I spent all day trying to talk with some of the people who seem to be planning all this. Those cowards… no one was even brave enough to admit that they were a part of it.”
Alia’s voice had taken on a bitter edge. Sara turned toward her. Sara could tell that Alia was struggling with the burden of her guilt, too.
“Our intelligence also indicates that this riot is part of the escalation that began after Nadeem’s death. The two murders - both Muslim men - have become the unintended spark that has ignited this tribal fire which is now threatening to consume the entire city.”
Sara knew this, of course. Heck, she had knowingly fanned the flames. But she had never thought that this was where it would lead. She had only wanted to divert the attention of the police and everyone else from the murders so that she didn’t get caught. She had seen such tactics work like a charm at the refugee camp where she had lived before she came to Sequoia. That’s what the politicians and leaders did every single time they failed to address some important problem that the people in the camp were facing. They would cook up some excuse to rile up people. Then that rabble-rousing would lead to factions and then those factions would fight and the original problem would be forgotten. Eventually, things would calm down. And the politicians would continue their reign without any accountability. It always worked. It was not as if she had invented this strategy. She had merely adapted it for her own purposes. In any case, Nadeem had to die. She had done the right thing. Why should she be punished for it? That was ridiculous.
Finally, she spoke up, “well… so what. They will fight and some people will get hurt. Some will even die. And that’s on them. They are all adults. They are making their own decisions. It is not my problem. After a few days, things will calm down and people would have forgotten all about the riots and murders. They will go back to their daily lives. They always do.”
“What if there was no going back?”
It was a simple question. But, Alia had asked it so sincerely that Sara suddenly felt scared.
“Meaning?”
“What if there was no going back?”
“Don’t just repeat the same thing and expect me to make sense of it. Why won’t we go back to our lives?” snapped Sara.
Alia sighed. She was tired. She just wanted all this to end. Whatever that meant.
“Have you not heard about the armed forces that the UN has sent to quell the riot in our city?”
Sara had not heard about that. She had not left her flat for the past 2-3 days at all. She had cut herself off from all forms of communication. She had missed classes and had also taken sick leave from her job. Ever since her confrontation with Alia, she had been feeling miserable. It was not how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to feel better after the way they had parted. Alia was not going to report her. She was home free. Yet, it hadn’t sat well with her.
“When the riot breaks out, those armed forces will intervene and take over Sequoia. For good! The investors behind Sequoia - under the guise of protecting their investment - plan to convert our city into a labor camp. We would become - for all practical purposes - the slaves of those investors,” Alia patiently elaborated.
Sara’s heart sank.
“Noooooooo… nooo…” she whimpered.
Tears started streaming down her hollowed cheeks. All the fight was gone out of her. She had seen labor camps in Africa. She had read about them. She had watched videos of them. She knew all about the horrors that took place in those camps. Her fate would be no different from what had befallen her mother and sister. Actually, it would be far worse. They had, at least, been fortunate enough to die immediately after the assault. In labor camps, women were assaulted again and again. There was no reprieve. They may die at some point or they may be condemned to live in that hell for a really long time.
“If that riot happens, then there will be no going back, Sara. That would be that.”
Neither of them had much to say for a long time. Alia - out of sheer habit - kept scanning the pictures on the walls of Sara’s flat. She didn’t recognize a single face. She had just turned her attention - again, on auto-pilot - to the personal belongings, when she became aware of Sara’s muttering. By now Alia’s eyes had gotten used to the low lighting and she could clearly see Sara’s face even though Sara was sitting in a dark corner of the living room. The tears had stopped. Sara had also wiped her eyes and face. Instead of helplessness, there was anger in her eyes now as she talked to herself.
“Why… why… did he have to come to Sequoia. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone. And for god’s sake, why did I have to see him. There are three million people in Sequoia and in five years… five whole years… I had not seen him. Why now?”
Of course, the “he” was Nadeem. Alia had felt this exact emotion at least a dozen times ever since she had remembered her actions. “Why?” indeed. It didn’t really matter. In fact, this particular emotion was the most useless of all the emotions she had felt. This wishing of the past being different. There was nothing to be done about it. Nothing could be changed. What had happened, had happened. Every time she had felt that emotion, she had talked herself out of it with all these well-known proverbs. It had helped… somewhat. The real question was, “what to do now?” Alia waited patiently for Sara to run through the trajectory of the emotion. Inevitably, Sara reached the same conclusion as Alia - what was done was done. At that point, Sara looked up at Alia who was waiting for this moment.
“What should we do, Sara?”
“What can we do?” Sara defiantly responded.
“If we confess, then there is a very good chance that the riot can be stopped from happening. After all, we both are Muslim women. There is no religious angle here. In fact, there is no other angle here except that these men had destroyed our families.
We could save Sequoia with our sacrifice. Because, we shall surely be held accountable and deported.”
“Is that so!” This was more of a comment than a question. Sara didn’t seem convinced. Alia just shrugged.
“Or we can take our chances with slavery. Maybe that life is better than going back to where we came from. Although, keep in mind that they can send us wherever they want to, including back. I hear that the slaves in the US are rotated out every few years to ensure that there are no chances of people developing any strange ideas that they can permanently live there - even if it was as a slave.”
From Sara’s expression, it was clear that she had no idea about what was happening in the US. She simply couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Sudan under any circumstances. Why should she?! She had done nothing wrong. Nadeem was guilty. He had to be punished by someone. It just so happened that she was the one who had ended up doing so. And she was not even really in control of herself when she killed him. Why should she suffer for that?! Hadn’t she suffered enough already?!
Sara hadn’t said all these things out loud but Alia could read them on her face as if she was reading a book. She had felt the same several times. Did she still feel the same after the new information that had come to light?
“Look - when you and I decided to keep this quiet, we had not anticipated the consequences that we are facing right now. We thought it would simply be an extra-legal form of justice that we had committed. Now things are very different, Sara.”
“No they are not!” Sara was adamantly sticking to her conviction.
“Sara - why did we come to Sequoia in the first place?” Alia gently asked. This was not going anywhere. She had wanted to talk to Sara to reach a decision that made sense.
“It was my first chance to escape the living hell where I was born. I was living a cursed life. Finally, I felt that I was being rescued.”
“Me too, Sara. Me too!” Alia concurred in a soothing tone.
“I am training to be a nurse, you know. All that courier work I do is only until I can finish my coursework. I want to help other people who are in pain. I want to see people smile… be happy, you know,” and she waved her hands vaguely around her flat.
“And I want to ensure that life is fair. Which is why I became a cop. I believe that we can all be happy if we are able to resolve our differences in a fair manner, instead of relying on crude and violent ways. I do this because I feel we have a duty to each other - of being trust-worthy. Being just. Being reasonable. Not causing harm to each other. I want what you want, too!”
Sara was nodding vigorously. Even thinking about her dreams had brought a smile to her face. She was beaming with joy at what Alia was describing. Alia couldn’t help herself and she smiled back at her. But then her expression soured.
“We made one mistake and… and here we are…”
As if a switch had been flipped, the broad smile on Sara’s face was wiped out.
“We didn’t even realize we were making that mistake when we made it. I had managed to suppress it so completely that the only hint I had about it were my recurring nightmares that didn’t make much sense.”
“Is there no chance of stopping this riot?”
“There is always a chance. But this is a mob now. How many times, in the entire history, have masses of angry men been able to stop themselves from committing violence?
Sonia and I will continue to try our level best to persuade them to not do this. But I am not hopeful. The baggage from our pasts that we are all destined to carry with us, shapes their decisions just as much as it has shaped our actions.”
It seems that however much we try to escape our pasts, we are not really capable of actually doing so. It seems we can never really break free. All of us. Doesn’t matter where we go and what we do.”
Alia looked away. She walked about the flat aimlessly for a few moments. She was in the kitchen when she heard, “maybe it is true for you and me. But it doesn’t have to be true for the other folks in Sequoia.” This was something new from Sara. Alia swung around and walked back to the living room.
“If we confess and that confession is sufficient to stop the riot from happening, then we could help the others to not make mistakes like we did. At least they could, finally, break away from their past. For good!”
Sara sounded thoroughly unsure about this.
“I dunno, Alia. I just dunno… what to do. I am so tired. I can’t think.”
Alia sat down beside her and put her arm around her shoulder. Sara rested her head on Alia’s shoulder. Two decent women with nowhere left to go.